


Solace

by Anonymous



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Written for the Warcraft Kink Meme, Wrynncest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23953849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Something had changed since Pandaria.
Relationships: Anduin Wrynn/Varian Wrynn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	Solace

Something had changed since Pandaria, and it wasn't just the way Anduin smiled when his father entered the room.

Varian first took note of the ease with which they spoke—a level of comfort hitherto unknown when father and son stood side-by-side. Where Anduin used to flinch or grimace, he now met his father with a nod of approval, a look that radiated love. They sat at the table and spoke about Varian's day. They stayed up late in the royal chambers huddled around a gaming table while Anduin explained every Hearthstone card in turn, passing them into his father's hand, lingering a moment too long when skin met skin and laughing when the paper slipped between their fingers. 

Varian had listened when Anduin finally mustered the courage to speak openly about his time in Pandaria; he held him when the tears rolled down his cheeks and he whispered about the boyfriend who had left him—the dragon who had turned away. And Varian had struggled to swallow his rage, to slide his hand across his son's slender shoulders and to brush back the wispy blond hair that clung to his tear-soaked face. 

They had lain together in that embrace: Anduin sniffling, and Varian pursing his lips together and cursing himself for all the time he had squandered with his son: all the opportunities he had missed to shield him from heartbreak and injury and harm. And long after Anduin had dozed off in his arms, Varian was there holding him, listening. 

And after that night, Anduin started slipping into his bed more often.

Some nights he would appear in the doorway with a lamp clutched between his fingers. Others he would stay in Varian's room playing games until he could barely keep open his eyes. But it always ended with Anduin's slender body wrapped in Varian's arms and his blond head buried against his chest. Under the sheets, hugs became kisses and kisses became nuzzles and softly-murmured 'I love you's. It was so much easier to be open when darkness descended and draped over their bodies like Varian's soft blue-and-gold duvet. 

But even darkness couldn't stop Varian's heart from clenching with fear and need and regret the first time Anduin's tongue pressed between his lips.

It must have been an error, he told himself, an accidental intake of breath right at the moment when their lips pressed close for a chaste good night. But then Anduin leaned in again, the pads of his fingers against Varian's cheek and his head tilting ever so slightly, lips parting, chest rising, and there was no mistaking the sigh that caught in his throat as he rocked his small body against his father’s. 

Varian's eyes flew open. Anduin stilled, but never quite stopped, the wetness of his tiny tongue still warm against Varian's skin. They couldn't—no, he had to stop this. He couldn't, his son—

"Anduin Wrynn," he all but growled, and at once he feared all the closeness, all the bounds they had mended, would be lost in a single sputter. But he couldn't let his son lead him down this road.

And yet, as soon as Anduin pushed himself up on his arms, he felt bereft of the young boy's kiss. In the waning lamplight, Anduin looked so beautiful, lips wet and cheeks flushed, and Varian's eyes started to wander. No. No, he couldn't. He mustn't. 

Anduin leaned back down and rested their foreheads together. With a sigh, Varian squeezed closed his eyes and waited for his son to speak. Every second seemed to drag on, Anduin’s pounding heart ticking down like his clock on the wall. Varian couldn’t help but feel it was counting down to their final goodbye. He swallowed. Anduin shifted. 

Finally, his son’s voice, small and meek, whispered against Varian’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, father.”

'What the hell has gotten into you?' He could almost feel his old self starting to snap, but the love that swelled in his chest pushed it down. Instead he just remained frozen, trying to work through what he was hearing, what he was feeling, only managing to choke out a short, strained, “Why?”

“I—father, I think I have feelings for you. I didn’t mean to. You’re just…” Anduin’s voice trailed off, and instead he turned and pressed his lips to his father’s cheek. His small hand slid from his jaw to his hair, and this time Varian willed his protests to silence. For a moment, there was only his son’s lips against his skin, his small fingers tangling up in his hair. There was only the warmth of their bodies and the moan that rose in his throat when Anduin whispered “I know it’s wrong, but I want to be with you. I want you to touch me, to—”

“Anduin—”

“Father, I’m sorry.”

“We can’t. You know we can’t.”

“—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Varian winced and his stomach sank. His arms wrapped tight around Anduin’s body, and all the doubt and fear came rushing back over him in waves. He wanted to protect him, to be the father he never had been, but he couldn’t deny the way his breath hitched when he felt Anduin’s body move against his and when he saw the light play out on his delicate face. He couldn’t erase the memory of that kiss, not with his son still clinging to him, broken and shamed and desperate for his approval. 

He couldn’t lie to the boy who had finally come to trust him. 

“Anduin, I’m—” he felt like his voice came from a thousand miles away. Anduin must have heard, because he lifted his head and gazed down into his eyes. 

“I’m attracted to you, as well. If there is something wrong, it is wrong with both of us. But I am responsible here. I am—”

“Father,” Anduin’s hands slipped down to cup his cheeks, clammy and trembling and eager enough to steal the words right from Varian’s lips. And then they were kissing again: Anduin’s mouth pressed firm against his and their breath became one. The tip of the boy’s tongue flicked against his skin and he caught it between his lips, sucking, giving in to the heat that rose to his face and the boy’s hands as they wandered from his jaw to his neck, and then from his neck to the hair on his chest.

Everything stopped. Everything died but his son’s desperate kiss and his fingers taking in every scar and curve of his muscle and sensitive spot on his sweat-soaked skin. Those very same fingers he had clutched in his palm while Anduin clung to life on the floor of Lion’s Landing, and accidentally brushed across the hearthstone table those happy nights in his chamber. 

Those fingers that now dipped down to rest against the top of his pants, clearly aware of the bulge that had formed a tent in the silky fabric, and all too intent to keep going.

“Argh—” Varian let out a strangled sound when he felt the boy’s palm cup his shaft. There was no strength in him left to protest any further than that. His cock merely ached and throbbed into Anduin’s wandering hand, and, blushing, he realized the boy was appraising him, as if he had imagined that moment and now wanted to confirm the thoughts that had kept him awake at night—thoughts he had never dared share until now. 

Varian broke their kiss to gaze up at him, barely able to make out his flush and the quiver of his lower lip in the dark when he murmured, “Can I?”

"Fuck," Varian hissed in spite of himself, his cock twitching at the feel and hopeful look he caught in his son’s eyes. The vulgarity seemed to catch Anduin off guard; his eyes widened, and the smile threatened to fall from his lips, but Varian managed to catch him. He pulled him back down into a kiss and rolled his hips up to meet him, his own hand moving to tuck back his hair—to slide down the gentle curve of his spine and draw out an even gentler shiver. 

Anduin seemed to understand. Giving him a squeeze, his fingers tugged at his lacings and the buttons beneath before finally revealing his cock to the heat caught between them. His palm was soft—softer even than the arch of his back, softer than Varian could have imagined—as it wrapped around his head, smearing the pre that had leaked from his slit before rubbing it down to his base. 

Curious, but not clumsy. Careful, but not hesitant. Varian threw back his head and dug his nails into the small of Anduin’s back. 

It didn’t take long. How could it, with Anduin touching him like that, and rubbing the bulge in his own pants against Varian’s thigh? With every stroke, Varian felt himself grow tenser, and all the more desperate for Anduin’s loving hand. His son’s soft hair tickled his cheek and he murmured against his neck, and the softness of his skin and his breath intoxicated the king in ways the boy’s mother had never managed. The thought should have brought guilt, but instead it filled him with need: for Anduin, for his release, for a thousand more kisses and wandering hands shared under the cover of night. 

Then Anduin cried out, and Varian realized the boy had cum through his pants pressed against his thigh. The thought alone was more than the king could take, and his hips jerked up into his son’s touch one last time. Something inside him clenched, and then released in a jolt, and his own cum splattered between his son’s fingers and across the skin of his chest. Crying out, he squeezed closed his eyes. His breath hitched, and soon the warmth of relief and his son’s skin against him washed over him like a wave. 

Anduin kissed his neck, and he held him. Father and son drew in a breath, and finally, softly, Varian managed to whisper, “You’re still okay?”

“Yes, of course I am, father. I’m,” Anduin kissed him again, then nuzzled, soft and sincere. “I’m happy.”

“Good. So am I.”

And under the cover of dark, with Anduin pressed close against him, and the evidence of what they had done still wet between their bodies, Varian buried his face in his hair and murmured an honest “I'm glad."


End file.
